


the trials and tribulations of spilt grape juice

by jungwooed



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alcoholism, Domestic Violence, Injury Recovery, Love, M/M, Making Out, Relationship Study, but kinda happy at the same time, complicated relationship, everyone is kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 16:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20261080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungwooed/pseuds/jungwooed
Summary: Three years ago, when Jaemin met Renjun, he never would’ve laid a finger on him. He cherished Renjun and loved him wholly, unconditionally. Jaemin had always imagined that he and Renjun would be different, had felt with such conviction that their love was the stuff of romance novellas. But life has a way with the unexpected, and they were not exempt from happenstance.





	the trials and tribulations of spilt grape juice

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: this story includes domestic violence

The first thing Renjun sees when coming back from his late shift at the cleaning company is an empty bottle of cognac lying in the middle of the living room floor. He sighs, it's one of those nights.

“Jaem? I’m home!” Renjun calls out. The lack of an answer makes him frown. He bends down to pick up the bottle and put it in the recycling bin in the kitchen. 

“Junnieeeee,” a voice drifts from the bedroom, sweet and unguarded and very drunken. 

“Coming! I’m just going to tidy up the kitchen,” Renjun replies. He regards the mess that his boyfriend left behind. Evidently, he took up a new cooking venture while he was at work.   


Renjun starts with the mountain of dishes piled in the sink. It takes twenty minutes before he feels arms encircling his waist and lips leaving wet, endearing kisses on the side of his neck.

“Stop cleaning,” Jaemin whines. “You just got home from, like, seven hours of this shit.”

“I don’t want to leave dirty dishes in the sink all night, Jaem,” Renjun says softly, leaning back against his chest and turning his head to the side to plant a kiss on his cheek. “The lower floors are complaining of rats and I don’t wanna tempt fate.”

“I’ll get it done first thing in the morning. Please, Junnie, come to bed with me,” Jaemin pulls him away from the sink and Renjun is so tired, he doesn’t fight it. Jaemin drags him to their room and pushes him onto the bed, flopping down beside Renjun and curling up close to him. 

“Jaemin, I still need to wash up and change out of my work clothes,” Renjun giggles as he pets his boyfriend’s hair. 

“But you smell fine!”

“I smell like bleach and we both know it,” Renjun says with an exaggerated eyeroll at his boyfriend’s drunken antics.

“Are you gonna shower?” Jaemin asks.

“Yeah, probably,” Renjun says while picking out his pajamas.

“Can I join?” Jaemin says coyly, posing seductively on the bed and fixing Renjun with a big, goofy grin.

“No,” Renjun answers before going into the bathroom. 

“Prude!” He hears from the other side of the door. 

Renjun cracks the door open and peeks his head out, “if you’re still awake when I get out, I’ll kiss you lots.”

Despite Jaemin’s determination, Renjun reenters the room half an hour later to a zonked out boyfriend, spread over the whole bed like a starfish. 

“Baby, can you scoot over for me?” Renjun whispers, nudging Jaemin’s shoulder so that he wakes up enough to move to his side of the bed. 

“Are you gon’ give me kisses or what?” Jaemin mumbles, clearly more asleep than awake.

“Just go to sleep, okay? Tomorrow is my day off so you can kiss me ‘til your lips feel numb.”

“Mkay,” Jaemin murmurs, snuggling up next to Renjun when he finally lays his head on the pillow. “I like the sound of that.” 

Renjun kisses Jaemin’s nose once before settling into the covers and letting sleep wash over him.

\---

Jaemin wakes up the next morning feeling like he weighs a ton of bricks. His body is strewn over the mattress with one leg hiked over the comforter and his pillow pushed to the floor. Definitely the signs of a rough nights sleep. Jaemin groans as he pulls himself off the bed, immediately feeling the throbbing in his head and back. Conveniently, there’s a bottle of Advil and a glass of water sitting on the nightstand. He silently thanks Renjun and pops two pills into his mouth. Jaemin takes a shower to try and wash off some of the grossness of his hangover. It works well enough on surface level.

“Hello, Junnie,” Jaemin says as he enters the kitchen, his voice still scratchy from sleep even though it’s already past noon. Renjun is sitting on the couch in the living room with a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose as he pores over a thick novel about aliens.

“So, you finally decided to grace the world with your presence,” Renjun replies snarkily, not looking up from his book.

“Did you make me some coffee?” Jaemin asks hopefully, ignoring Renjun’s comment entirely.

“Yes, I did,” Renjun says shortly. Jaemin is starting to pick up on the fact that Renjun is _ not _happy with him at the moment. “I also took it upon myself to clean up the horrendous mess you left in the kitchen yesterday. The coffee is in the pot, it should still be warm.” 

“I’m sorry ‘bout that,” Jaemin says, sounding barely remorseful. “I was in a bad place last night.”

“I thought we decided you wouldn’t use alcohol as a coping mechanism anymore,” Renjun sighs, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t sound mad, just frustrated. 

“Well, you’re never fucking_ home _and I wasn’t just gonna sit here alone with my thoughts,” Jaemin snaps. “They’ll eat me alive one day.”

“Yeah, if you keep giving them that kind of power, they will,” Renjun says, maintaining his temper and keeping his voice mum. 

“What gives you the right to decide what’s good for me anyways?” Jaemin scoffs. “You’re a maid, not a psychologist.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Renjun turns his attention to a loose thread on his sweater. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

“It’s fine. Just stay out of it, okay?” Jaemin moves towards where Renjun is sitting on the couch. 

“Okay.” Renjun doesn’t look up at him.

“Hey, are you gonna cry?” Jaemin asks with a little amusement, hooking two fingers underneath his chin and forcing him to make eye contact. Renjun’s eyes are glossy, but he shakes his head resolutely, denying what Jaemin can clearly see.

“I don’t cry over boys who don’t believe in ghosts,” Renjun says with a smug smile.

“I bet I can still make you cry,” Jaemin says playfully, flopping down on the couch and pulling Renjun onto his lap. He immediately moves forward to place his lips on Jaemin’s, the eagerness probably due to some leftover guilt from their previous conversation. Jaemin groans into Renjun’s mouth, squeezing his waist so hard that Renjun whimpers and pushes himself closer. 

“Then do it, coward.”

\---

Renjun wishes he could afford an apartment that allows pets. So, so much. Sadly, he lives in Manhattan, where rent is soul-suckingly high and an apartment with good kitchen space is hard to come by. Jaemin is an aspiring chef, he needs the perk. If Renjun had been on his lonesome, he would’ve bought someplace where the landlord wasn’t such an asshat. 

_ “We’d keep the bird in a cage! It wouldn’t do any harm.” _

_ “No, Mr. Huang.” _

_ “Can’t I just have a little hamster?” _

_ “No.” _

_ “A goldfish?” _

_ “No.” _

_ “...A succulent?” _

Turns out, succulents are not among his landlord’s extensive list of banned belongings. Renjun has a little potted jade plant sitting on his desk. He named him Celery. 

Jaemin has no issue with their landlord’s assholery, however. He thinks they don’t need a pet because, well, all he really needs is Renjun, Celery, and a big kitchen. 

Renjun isn’t so easily satisfied. 

“Baaabe,” Renjun whines. “Why can’t you like… threaten the landlord into letting me have a canary or something.” He shakes Jaemin’s arm while he reads another one of his cheesy romance novellas. It’s late at night, and when Renjun gets sleepy, he misses his pets back in China ten times as much. 

“You think I can threaten a 300 pound New Yorker that wears a gold chain and runs an underground brothel?” Jaemin asks, sounding mostly exasperated and the slightest bit flattered. He folds down the corner of the page he left off on and turns his body to face Renjun. The room is dim, with only a single lamp illuminating the space from a far corner. Jaemin likes moments like these, talking to Renjun and watching the delicate shadows flicker across his face each time he moves. He can practically hear his own heartbeat in the stretches of silence when neither of them say anything, and they just hold each other to feel the warmth. It’s lovely; Renjun is lovely. 

“Well, you’ve been going to the gym, right?” Renjun pokes his bicep harshly. “I bet you could take him.”

“Junnie, remember the other day when I was trying to be romantic and carry you to bed.”

“Umm, yeah.”

“My back_ still _ hurts from that. And you’re like 99 pounds.”

“It’s not your fault you have old man bones, baby,” Renjun teases, but he pushes Jaemin onto his stomach and starts massaging in between his shoulder blades to help relieve some of the tension. It’s a sweet gesture and Jaemin makes a mental note to do something for Renjun to reciprocate, maybe he’ll make him waffles in the morning. 

“Just wait, one day I’ll be so swole I’ll be able to carry you _ and _ Celery with one hand,” Jaemin mumbles out into the pillow.

“I’m swooning,” Renjun says sarcastically as he works at a knot in Jaemin’s back with his elbow. 

“Baby, I’m really sore right there could you leave that spot alone?” Jaemin asks, the pain making his eyes squint and his breathing uneven.

“That’s the whole point of a massage, Jaems,” Renjun laughs and grinds his elbow in. “It’ll help loosen you up a little.”

“Ow, that fucking hurts,” Jaemin says harshly. His back is screaming in pain. It feels like Renjun is stabbing him in the back with a red hot knife, over and over and over again.

“It’ll feel good after, trust me,” Renjun replies, digging his elbow in a little further.

“Seriously, Renjun, knock it off!” Jaemin grits his teeth, trying to keep his cool even under the immense pain he’s being subjected to.

“Jaemin, be a fucking man—” Renjun says before he’s bucked off of Jaemin’s back, landing on the hardwood floor in a heap.

“I told you to fucking stop!” Jaemin yells, face scrunched up from the residual pain, holding back tears as he recollects himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hears someone call out, _ breathe, Jaemin. Just breathe. _

“God, Jaems, you’re so touchy,” Renjun scowls at his boyfriend from the floor, dusting off his clothes and getting back onto the bed. 

“Well you _ know _ I have back problems,” he replies bitterly. “Are you trying to undo all the PT or something?”

“Yeah, I do know,” Renjun stalks over to the other side of the room and turns off the lamp. “But I guess I didn’t know you like being such an asshat about it.” 

“_ I’m _ an asshat?” Jaemin scoffs. “Fuck off, Renjun. You have no idea how hard recovery has been for me. You’re supposed to be there for me, supporting me. ‘Be a man?’ what utter bullshit.” 

“You think you’re the only one suffering here?” Renjun bites out, harsh and unloving. It feels like a punch to the stomach.

“No, but sometimes I feel like you don’t give a shit about everything that I’ve been through, everything that I’ve had to endure,” Jaemin says all in one breath. “You always said you’d be there with me. Through every second of my recovery.” Jaemin says lowly, fixing Renjun with a withering stare. 

“I’m right here, Jaemin,” Renjun replies viciously. “It’s not my fault you’re too much of a self-absorbed, pathetic, destructive dickwad to notice that I’ve been here the whole time!” 

“Shut up, Renjun,” Jaemin forces out.

“No! It’s about time that someone told you that, newsflash, life sucks sometimes! Just because you were dealt a shitty hand in life doesn’t give you the right to whinge about it all the time. Because you know what, Jaemin? It makes you look fucking weak. You need to grow some balls and stop acting like a baby because I’m fucking sick of--”

_ SLAP. _

Jaemin doesn’t remember doing it, doesn’t remember even thinking about it. One moment he could feel the fury simmering inside of him, and the next it was just a harsh sting on the palm of his hand. He looks at Renjun, he’s cowering away from him and cupping his cheek. 

It’s silent for a while. Jaemin can’t tell exactly how long, but it’s long enough for Renjun to find his voice. 

“I never take it out on you when my migraines kick in,” Renjun says, and Jaemin can hear how his voice wavers, how thin and breakable it sounds. He knows by now that it means he’s about to cry. “I’m trying my hardest, you know? I’m doing my best and I can’t always be perfect for you. I’m sorry for calling you weak.” Renjun gets under the covers with his back to Jaemin, who’s still sitting up on the bed in shock. He can hear him crying. He’s trying to hide it, but Jaemin can hear the unevenness of his breath and see the way his shoulders shake slightly when he exhales. Renjun lets out slight whimpers as sobs wrack his body.

Having medical issues while living in New York isn’t ideal, it’s how a lot of people end up being homeless: unable to keep up with hospital bills in addition to the high rent and high prices. It’s a bad situation to be in. Renjun stopped going to a therapist when Jaemin injured his back, to balance out the costs. He ended his prescription of topiramate, which helped alleviate his migraines. Renjun picked up a second job at a cleaning agency, scrubbing toilets in big, glass New York penthouses for meager wages. Renjun deals with piggy men daily, goading him over the quality of his work, or refusing to tip. Renjun has sacrificed so much for his benefit.

Renjun came to New York with dreams. He thought the glittering opportunity of American life could save him from the devastating poverty he witnessed in his rural town in China. He studied in the city, staying at the top of his class and working hard on the weekends to pay for college in the states. He hasn’t had an easy life, by any means. Jaemin befriended him in college, when Renjun was most overwhelmed by disillusionment with the American Dream. Renjun wants to be a cartoonist, he has since he was a little kid. But when he finally reached the United States, what he had been working towards all those years, he was hit by the reality that sometimes passion and dreams aren’t enough. Even in America. 

Jaemin, however, has lived in the U.S. his whole life, spending his childhood years in Salt Lake City. He grew up on the notion that anything he wanted to be, he could be. Jaemin wanted to learn how to cook food, so he did. His story is embarrassingly privileged compared to Renjun’s. 

That is, until the accident.

It was stupid, he slipped on some grape juice that Renjun had spilled in their kitchen. He was immediately paralyzed, completely unable to move his back in the slightest without screaming in pain. Renjun had panicked, gotten down on the floor with him and stroked his hair, kissed his face, whispered reassurances in his ear. They couldn’t afford an ambulance, so Renjun knocked him out with a pan to ensure he wouldn’t feel it when he was carried to Jeno’s car like a ragdoll. 

The next thing he knew, he was in the hospital and Renjun was sobbing at his bedside. 

And now he’s crying again. And it’s all Jaemin’s fault… again. 

“Junnie…” Jaemin says through the darkness, voice soft and agreeable. 

“Jaemin,” Renjun says through an intense sob. “Please just leave me alone. We can talk in the morning.” 

But Jaemin doesn’t want to talk in the morning and he can’t let Renjun hurt like this all night long. So, he breathes in deep and grabs Renjun by the waist, pulling him close to his body.

“Renjun,” he says as he brushes Renjun’s too-long hair out of his eyes, “I love you, okay? I know the stress about the injury has taken a toll on the both of us.” 

Jaemin manhandles Renjun so that he’s sitting on his lap, looking him in the eyes in the shaky light of passing cars outside their window. 

“I love you, too,” Renjun says as he hugs Jaemin, wrapping his skinny arms around his neck and pushing their chests together for the sake of closeness. “I’m scared for us, you know?”

“I want you to quit your cleaning job,” Jaemin whispers into his hair, placing a kiss on his temple and leaning back to gauge his reaction. 

“No… Jaem, you know I can’t,” Renjun smiles weakly through his tears. “We’re so far in debt already, we can’t afford for me to lose a job.”

“I’ll get a job, Junnie, I swear,” Jaemin says earnestly. “I promise, I’ll find work at Starbucks with Jeno or I’ll start a dog walking business. _ Fuck, _I’ll sell lemonade on the side of the street!” 

Renjun decides it’s too late for more talking, so he kisses Jaemin hard, the force pushing him down onto the pillows. Maybe the harder he kisses Jaemin, the more he’ll feel it. He’ll feel Renjun’s adoration vibrating in his chest. It’ll bounce around his ribs, fill his lungs until he can’t breathe. It’ll press against his sternum and make him feel like he’s suffocating. That’s what Renjun wants right now. He wants Jaemin to know exactly how much he feels for him, every day, every second. 

Jaemin grasps for something, anything to anchor himself before he gets swept away by Renjun’s persistent kisses. He settles on Renjun’s hair, he grabs it at the root and pulls lightly, in little circular motions. Renjun sighs into his mouth, too lost in sensation to care about anything else but _ feeling. _

Jaemin kisses back, much gentler and with less intent. He kisses Renjun like he’s tired, which makes Renjun bite at his lips and push harder, desperately trying to make Jaemin give him the passion that he wants. Renjun wants Jaemin to be unyielding and forceful, wants him to kiss him like he’s scared he’ll fall through his fingertips.

But Jaemin only returns soft, mild kisses. Jaemin goes limp under Renjun, pressed to the bed with his blood rushing so fast underneath his skin that he can feel it in his skull. Renjun breaks the kiss, feverishly trying to bite at Jaemin’s neck and take off his shirt at the same time.

And that’s when Jaemin comes to his senses.

“Baby…” Jaemin says softly.

“Mhmm?” Renjun hums against his neck, sucking on the skin and impatiently tugging at the hem of Jaemin’s shirt.

“You’re still crying,” Jaemin pulls Renjun’s face from the crook of his neck with the grip he has on his hair. He meets Renjun’s eyes in the dark, they’re sparkling with tears that reflect the light of a street lamp outside. Jaemin catches one that’s sliding down his nose and caresses his cheek with his thumb.

“Oh yeah,” Renjun croaks. “I guess I am.”

“I think we should just go to sleep,” Jaemin says carefully, rolling Renjun over so that they’re facing each other on their sides and he’s no longer pinned on the bed. “We’ve had a rough day.”

“Yeah, okay,” Renjun whispers, turning his back to Jaemin and curling up on his other side. 

\---

The next day feels awkward. Renjun leaves for work early, before Jaemin is even awake, mumbling about how this client is especially strict about timeliness. Jaemin doesn’t even have the chance to say goodbye before Renjun is out the door. The sound of the slam makes his heart throb painfully. Jaemin sits up and leans back against the pillows. His back is aching, right where Renjun had been massaging it the night before. He ignores the pain and puts his face in between his knees. He stays there until the sun has finished rising and his back is screaming for him to sit up straight. 

_ I’m a fucking abuser. _

Jaemin feels the weight of this realization like a hot flash that starts in his heart and weaves its way through his body, all the way to his fingertips. Jaemin hurt someone he loves. The person he loves more dearly than anything in the world. 

He lets his body relax against his expensive pillow, a gift from Renjun after the accident to make sleeping a little more comfortable. Jaemin wonders how Renjun is faring at work. He wonders if he’s thinking about the events from last night. He wonders if there’s a mark where Jaemin hit him. Wonders if his friends will notice. 

Three years ago, when Jaemin met Renjun, he never would’ve laid a finger on him. He cherished Renjun and loved him wholly, unconditionally. Jaemin had always imagined that he and Renjun would be different, had felt with such conviction that their love was the stuff of romance novellas. But life has a way with the unexpected, and they were not exempt from happenstance. 

Jaemin often wonders what their life would’ve been like if Renjun hadn’t spilled grape juice on the tile floor of their kitchen. He thinks that they would’ve moved out by now, to somewhere more spacious where they could raise a kitten. Renjun would be so happy, he would never have to take on his cleaning job and he could focus full-time on his internship at the publishing agency downtown. 

Jaemin closes his eyes and smiles, thinking about how hopelessly in love they could’ve been. 

It’s not that Jaemin doesn’t love Renjun, because he does. He loves him more intensely than he ever thought possible. And he’s certainly sure Renjun loves him just as much. But, the stress and strain of life has made something ugly sprout between them like black mold. 

Before Jaemin knows it, the sun is at its highest point in the sky and he can hear keys jingling as Renjun returns from his morning cleaning shift. He listens to Renjun bustle around in the kitchen for a while before pulling himself up, with great difficulty, and making his way out of the bedroom. 

When he enters the kitchen, he’s met with a sight that is all too familiar. Renjun is moving around serenely, humming an old french song and fixing a pot of hot water for his jasmine tea. The only difference is that, this time, Renjun has a bruise on his left cheekbone. 

“Want me to brew up some coffee?” Jaemin snaps out of his trance for long enough to nod. But soon, he slips back. He stares at the little blue patch, suddenly moving forward and reaching. Renjun looks at him questioningly, but allows Jaemin to touch him without hesitation. He brushes his fingers over the spot, jerking back when Renjun winces.

“Never again,” Jaemin finally says, looking Renjun directly in the eyes. 

“What do you mean--”

“I want you to know, Junnie,” Jaemin sighs as he feels tears burning at the back of his eyes, “I won’t do it again, okay?” 

“Jaemin I know you didn’t mean it,” Renjun says earnestly, taking Jaemin’s hand away from his cheek and into his own. “We’re both in the wrong here. I never should have pushed you like that, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were right though.”

“Right about what?”

“Renjun, I’m so fucking weak,” Jaemin sucks in a cold breath, tears slipping from his eyes. “I can’t believe I actually _ hurt _you.” Renjun takes the beat of silence to pull him into his chest. Usually Jaemin is the one to hug Renjun like this, protective and warm. But Renjun knows how to be those things too. 

“I won’t lie to you, Jaem,” Renjun says softly into his hair. “All my friends from work are telling me to leave you.”

Jaemin stays silent, his mind at a standstill.

“But I won’t. Because I think we’re fixable,” Renjun pulls away from him to rest their foreheads together and look Jaemin in the eyes. “Because I am still just as in love with you as when we got this stupid apartment two years ago.”

Jaemin just keeps crying.

“And Jaem?” 

“Yeah?” Jaemin croaks out in response.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” Renjun says carefully, worrying on his bottom lip

“What is it, baby?”

“I got fired today.”

“Fuck.”

Another beat of silence. This time, Renjun uses it to gather his courage. 

“A particularly influential client got upset with me for refusing to give him a dick massage,” Renjun clucks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “I’m going to ask Sicheng if I can work at the diner until I find something that pays a little better.”

“I’m so, so sorry, Junnie,” this time, Jaemin is the one pulling him in for a hug. “You have to deal with piggy men in the workplace _ and _ at home. I don’t know how you do it.” 

“You’re not nearly as bad as any of them, Jaem.”

“I’m really relieved, actually. What if some rich old kook stole you away from me?” Jaemin asks in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Yeah ‘cause saggy skin and age spots are such a turn on for me,” Renjun laughs despite himself.

“Hey, financial security is pretty sexy.”

“I’m way too independent to be a sugar baby, dumbass,” Renjun says, pushing Jaemin away and going back to preparing his tea. “We both know I’m the real breadwinner in this relationship.”

“You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Are you going to the publishing agency today?” 

“Yeah,” Renjun says less than enthusiastically. “I have a pile of manuscripts collecting dust on my desk.”

“When do you leave?” 

“Fairly soon,” Renjun replies as he checks his watch. “I wanna catch the 1:20 bus so I’ll probably leave in half an hour.”

“Do you have enough time for my waffles, then?” 

“Always!”

\---

When Renjun came home from the publishing agency that night, he was expecting to see another bottle laying on the floor. Instead, he sees Jaemin sitting cross-legged on the floor sipping on a juice box, reading a new romance novella. 

“Is that grape juice?” Renjun asks carefully. 

“Yeah, I’m trying to face my demons,” Jaemin says, putting down his book and gesturing for Renjun to come closer. He plops himself right next to Jaemin, taking a juice box from the package opened up on the coffee table. 

“How’s that going?” Renjun asks, on the edge of his seat like he’s listening to a tale about a knight and some monstrous beast.

“Better than I thought it would,” Jaemin smiles and brushes his fingers through Renjun’s messy hair.

“Jaemin?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you think that true love exists?” Renjun asks, voice mum and pensive as he stares down at the grape juice in his hands. 

“Well, yeah,” Jaemin says, laughing at Renjun’s sudden shyness. “You prove to me that true love exists every day.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Jaemin pulls Renjun closer so he can lean against him. “I could never imagine being with anyone else. I didn’t feel like a whole human until I met you.”

“Do you think we’ll ever break up?” Renjun asks, leaning into the touch but sounding like he could dissolve into tears at any moment.

“Of course not, baby,” Jaemin answers quickly, wrapping his arms around Renjun’s waist in an attempt to comfort him. “True love is made to overcome.”

“Okay,” Renjun says, subtly pulling away from Jaemin’s embrace and taking a long sip from his grape juice.

“What about you?” Jaemin takes Renjun’s hand. “Do you believe in true love, too?”

“No, not anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is sad... 
> 
> if you have any thoughts, feelings, or questions please leave them in the comments! I put a lot of consideration into the way I wrote this fic so I'd love to hear a readers perspective.
> 
> Thanks for reading, muah!


End file.
